


Sunflower (I think your love would be too much)

by honeycosmos



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Bathroom Sex, Blowjobs, Body Worship, Boys In Love, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Gay, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Haikyuu!! Chapter 402: Final Chapter: Challengers Spoilers, Happy Ending, Hinata Shouyou is Sunshine, Kageyama Tobio is Bad at Feelings, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, M/M, Marking, Mentioned Kageyama Miwa, Misunderstandings, POV Kageyama Tobio, Possession Kink, Power Bottom Hinata Shouyou, Praise Kink, Sloppy Makeouts, Top Kageyama Tobio, Very minor bokuaka, confident gay hinata shoyo, dirty talking, dynamic switching, he is also whipped, he's a little confused but he's got the spirit, hinata best tangerine, hinata eternal sunshine, hinata is super filthy, hinata is thicc, hoshiumi is a crackhead, kagayama gay panics, kageyama becomes a confident gay, kageyama's sister is wholesome, kags is pretty dumb, kags overthinks, like a lot of dirty talking, mentioned service top kageyama, oikawa is a confident gay, omi kun is mean, overwhelmed kageyama tobio, romero best dad, sakuatsu married, side Oikawa Tooru/Ushijima Wakatoshi, sunflower reference, they have a really cute dynamic, thigh fucking, ushijima babie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:08:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25548733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeycosmos/pseuds/honeycosmos
Summary: Hinata Shoyo is going to bloom like the sunflowers in Tobio's garden.Except his heart is all the soil Shoyo needs. Where will he hide?Or:Kageyama is secretly gay for his best friend. He is also openly bad at communication.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 48
Kudos: 367





	1. Flowers can be alive too

Tobio remembers the first sunflower that bloomed in his grandfather’s garden.

He was nine, running around on damp ground, waiting for the old man to come home and practice tosses with him, when he had stumbled across a little patch of fresh soil.

It was fenced in with wooden sticks, and a budding flower peaked up in the middle. Tobio recollects the smudged memory, and pieces together the weeks that followed. The vivid yellow of the flowers that danced in the sun, the glint of dew drops on petals every morning, and the warmth that the miniature sunflower terrarium brought to their doorstep.

He also recalls the prickling of stems against his bruised fingers when he had tied all of them into an awkward bundle, and wrapped them up in his sister’s favorite craft paper. A blurred vision of the sunflower bouquet, fresh as a July day, laying atop his grandfather’s casket whips past his racing mind.

The second time he sees a sunflower bloom, Kageyama Tobio is fifteen, naive and playing with Karasuno in nationals.

It is a momentary explosion in his chest, the strike of a thunder against an unguarded mortal. Despite blinding lights, Tobio watches in awe as it takes root right there, in the middle of a slippery volleyball court with no soil or sun, and towers over him in all its glory.

’Are you watching me?’ Brown eyes latch onto his icy blue ones mid air, and speak words only Tobio can hear. ‘Are you watching me fly, Kageyama kun?’ His fingers brush against the incoming ball, and when the sound of a spike echoes through the entire court, Tobio gulps. A flurry of warm orange comes zooming into his view, and small hands grab his slender fingers.

‘I did it!’ Tobio nods slow, swallowing words down his throat as Hinata Shoyo smiles up at him. The setter had always known Shoyo to be a diamond in the rough. Secretly, he had always admired the tenacity that his teammate displayed, but that admiration, he knew, was only a cover to shield his true thoughts. The question that plagued Tobio every time he tossed to the middle blocker was this.

_Would I be afraid of you if you weren’t on my side of the court?_

Tobio could feel his heart beat faster every time they executed a flawless quick, or a successful decoy move. Sometimes, that thumping heartbeat lingered off court, when Shoyo would smile at him. And one day, it stayed when the shorter boy accidentally brushed his fingers against the back of his hand. Tobio began questioning his feelings for the boy, going through many nights of soul searching and conversations with his sister. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that he did, in fact, like boys.

It wasn’t the realization of his sexuality that rattled the ground under his feet, no, because a tiny part of him had always been aware of this. Ever since he had laid eyes on his pretty, petty senior, Oikawa, those conflicting emotions had swirled deep in him. But Tooru was yesterday. A ghost that seldom popped up in his mind. Hinata is now, here, a real threat, in all his 164.2 cm of warm energy.

Tobio’s gruff voice manages a shaky ‘Nice kill’ to his middle blocker. Shoyo’s cheeks bloom with a soft blush as he grins wide. He looks up with gleaming eyes and says, ‘Kageyama, you’re so awesome! You…You’re the best.’ Shoyo walks away with a smile in his eyes as Yamaguchi raises the ball to serve.

A loud rhythmic thumping is heard only to Tobio, and the setter realizes, with sweaty hands, that he is royally, majestically fucked.


	2. First times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobio turns 17. His birthday party is...colourful.

‘Happy birthday, Kageyama-kun.’

A long strand of burnt orange hair falls in front of Shoyo’s eyes. He hands Tobio a gift box, wrapped pretty in red bows. Hiding his nervous happiness, the taller boy whispers a quiet ‘Thank you’ and puts the box away. Shoyo is wearing a large yellow sweater that falls down to his thighs. He looks engulfed in the soft fabric, and his caramel brown eyes are well hidden under the fluffy expanse of his ginger locks. Tobio wants to ruffle his hair, and take Shoyo into his arms, but he remembers that he has a birthday party to celebrate.

The vice captain doesn’t show his ecstasy on his face when he is handed gift boxes from his seniors, who have all taken the day off from their university classes to attend his party. He gives them all a small bow, which is greeted with a harsh pat on the back from Nishinoya. Even the grumpy Tsukishima can be seen with a slight smile on his lips as the Karasuno captain dances silly in front of him. His juniors nervously gather around and wish him, and Tobio doesn’t realize his jaw is clenched until his tangerine of a best friend smacks him on the back of his head. ‘Smile, will you?’ Tobio huffs and kicks Shoyo’s shin, cracking a barely visible grin at his juniors.

It’s later, when the living room is a mess from the party, and all their juniors have left that Nishinoya pulls out two heavy bottles from his bag.

‘Courtesy of my cousin,’ he grins, brown fringe sticking to his sweaty forehead, ‘for the birthday boy.’ Tobio nods his head, about to reject the offer, when he feels the heat of a hand sliding against his neck. ‘Oh, come on, Kageyama kun, don’t be such a buzzkill.’ Shoyo’s voice is a bare whisper against his flushed ear, and Tobio gulps when he feels the boy’s breath barely caress his cheek.

‘Besides,’ Shoyo adds, flinging his legs over Tobio’s and really, he might as well just sit on his lap at this point, because…’I don’t know how many years it’s going to be when we all meet again.’

The air in the room shifts immediately; all fall silent except for Shoyo, who giggles like he didn’t just remind everyone of the inevitable. Tobio knows the implication of his friend’s words: _I’m moving half way across the fucking globe, so enjoy this while you can._

From the far corner of his eye, Tobio sees Tsukishima look away from the drooping faces of his teammates, and fights the need to do the same. Taking a deep breath, he places a hand on Shoyo’s hardened calf and defeatedly sighs. ‘You guys can sleepover. Don’t you get smashed and pass out, I will NOT clean up your mess.’

Tobio’s words come to bite back at his ass, he realizes too late, when he feels himself getting lightheaded and slumping against Shoyo halfway through his second drink. The middle blocker is on his third glass, cheeks flushed pleasantly as he sways to the beat of a random song that Sugawara is singing to. Tobio looks up through droopy eyes at Shoyo, and without further thought, pulls him closer by the wrist.

‘Hinataaaaaa…’

A loud giggle reverberates in his ears as the warm chest he is lying against vibrates. ‘Kageyama, you’re a clingy drunk! A plot twist I never expected.’ Shoyo wraps his hands around Tobio’s slagging shoulders, and presses their chests flush against each other. Tobio’s face burns at the proximity, at how easily Hinata Shoyo can give out affection, like it’s a mere dump in the middle of an intense set. The rest of the team doesn’t pay attention to the monster duo huddled on the couch, each tipsy from the concoction that Tanaka and Nishinoya had experimented with.

Kiyoko sits with her legs crossed, talking to a flushed Yachi, as Tanaka wails on about how much he had missed her. Nishinoya and Yamaguchi try, and fail pathetically, to deliver a performance of Naruto opening 16 that would “put Kanaboon to shame and surrender their guitars to us”. Daichi, Asahi, Narita and Ennoshita make small talk while a drunk Kinoshita has a handful of giggly Suga. Tsukkishima spares a glances to the party before slipping his earbuds in and closing his eyes.

‘Hinata.’ Tobio pulls the hem of Shoyo’s stupid yellow sweater. ‘What did you get me?’ There is almost a pout to his voice, and Shoyo resists the urge to pinch his friend’s squished cheeks.

‘You can open it later.’

His voice is louder than necessary, Tobio realizes, when his ears almost ring. ‘Hm. Take me upstairs. I wanna sleep.’ Shoyo runs his fingers through Tobio’s soft locks. The taller boy nuzzles his cheek against the delicate yellow fabric covering Shoyo’s shoulder. The warmth of his friend’s touch makes his head feel lighter, making him lose inhibitions that the alcohol in his blood couldn’t achieve. Tobio finds his mind to be blank for the first time in many months, wiped clean all but for one thought.

Hinata Shoyo.

He doesn’t realize that he is being carried upstairs, arms flung over the ginger’s shoulder as he drags his feet behind him. Both stay silent until Tobio feels his back hit the mattress, and he lets out a small ‘Hmph’. Shoyo sits next to the birthday boy, eyes unfocused as they skim over the volleyball posters in the brunette’s room.

‘Kageyama,’ the boy whispers, his voice breathy from the kiss of alcohol, ’I’ll miss you, I think.’

Tobio barely catches the words despite the silence of the room. He manages to make his mushy limbs cooperate and sits up straight, as straight as a tipsy, gay teenager can.

‘Sappy shit,’ he grumbles, eyes closing involuntarily.

He is unaware of the dip in his bed as Shoyo crawls to him, unaware of the sound he lets out when putty hands pull his ocean blue shirt, and unaware when a cool hand slides against his sweaty neck. But Tobio is very aware, hyper focused despite his pathetic tolerance level, senses sharpened tenfold, when Shoyo’s hot breath touches his lips. They’re way too close for comfort, his mind alerts, and he feels his dry, non-moisturized lips part way for something. Something, like a kiss, or the like.

Shoyo moves quickly then, like he does when he zigzags across the court to reach one of Tobio’s perfect tosses, or like when he runs for a back attack, and presses his lips against Tobio’s. It’s awkward, badly aligned and almost messy, but Tobio feels fireworks shoot up his sagging spine. He places his hands where he can find purchase- Shoyo’s darned bright sweater. His lips stay still for a second before he kisses his friend back, cringing despite his state as their teeth clash. Shoyo’s nails dig into the skin on his neck as they fit their lips as best as they can. Tobio thinks that for a first kiss, he's pretty okay. They kiss as impulsively as they play, and Tobio off-handedly thinks about how Shoyo kisses like he spikes- unpredictably, freely and forcefully.

Shoyo is the first one to pull back, and Tobio fixes his gaze on the ginger’s soft, pink lips as they pant into each other’s space. ‘I take that back,’ Shoyo whispers, curling his fingers in Tobio’s black locks as the setter feels himself lose consciousness against the other’s chest.

Did Tobio really just kiss his best friend? His secret high school crush who he might or might not be head over heels in love with? On his seventeenth birthday? He can't even open his lids, he realizes, as his ears pick up the last of Shoyo's words to him.

‘I’ll miss you a whole fucking lot, Tobio.’


	3. Home is here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Argetina made Oikawa a confident gay.

‘See you later, Kageyama.’

The words still ring fresh in Tobio’s ears, as he raises his hand to serve. His hand touches the floating ball with the force of hundred hours of sweat and practice, and he bites back a smile when he hears the ball smash onto the other side of the court.

‘Another service ace by Japan’s setter, Kageyama!’

The court breaks into deafening applause as his teammates pat him on the back, but Tobio’s eyes burn with a desire. Not desire to win this match, nor the many matches that lie in front of him, no. But a desire to stand on the same court as the man across the globe. His sunflower, whose roots are still deeply buried in the vessels of his heart, entangled like old vines that sought the light of day. Growing, slowly and cautiously, waiting to stand mighty against the sun.

‘Yeah,’ the setter raises the ball again. ‘I’ll see you later.’

* * *

Tobio wipes the sweat off his brow as he scrolls through his phone, limbs sore from Schweiden Adlers’s match against the Red Falcons. He receives a text from Shoyo, and opens it embarrassingly fast. It’s a picture, of the orange haired man with his tongue out, arm wrapped around a very tanned, very tall Oikawa Tooru. Tobio breathes through his nose as his gaze lingers on Shoyo’s exposed shoulders. He has put on a lot of muscle, that much is obvious, as his tank top strains against the bulk of his arms. His skin is honey tanned, with sand grains sticking onto his sweaty body. Brown eyes gleam against Brazil’s summer sky, and his handsome face is shielded by a ridiculous red cap. Tobio feels his heart pick up pace as he spots Shoyo’s collarbones peak up from the flimsy top.

He barely glances at Tooru before tugging at Ushijima’s shirt. They don’t say anything as the ace stares at the picture, olive green eyes taking in the sight of his boyfriend. Finally, the man sits down next to Tobio, handing his phone back.

‘Tooru did tell me he was visiting the place with his teammates.’ Tobio nods, aware of how Ushijima is a man of few words, and that he probably won’t speak another sentence for maybe a solid fifteen minutes.

‘When will Hinata Shoyo be coming back to Japan?’

Tobio fidgets with his trimmed fingernails, picking at an odd piece of cuticle, as he turns his body away from Ushijima. ‘Not sure. Why do you ask?’

The ace’s lips curl into a smile, and he gets up from the bench to shut his locker. ‘Because you have been carrying around the ball that he gifted since our first match.’

Tobio’s skin feels prickly at that, and he averts his gaze from his senior teammate. The ace might not waste his words, but it irritates Tobio how those few words always hit the nail on the wall. ‘I told you it’s a lucky charm, Ushijima kun.’ A hand pats his shoulder.

He recalls the morning after his seventeenth birthday, his house empty, air heavy with the smell of drunk teenagers. Shoyo had left, and Tobio’s chest had a big fat void right in the middle for the next few weeks. They sauntered around each other, neither mentioning the kiss nor addressing their feelings.

Tobio remembers in vivid clarity, the day that Shoyo boarded a flight to Brazil. He came home and collapsed in his sister’s arms, breaking down on her floral smelling lavender sweater. It was only then that he had opened the ugly red bows on Shoyo’s birthday present and pulled out a volley ball- fresh and new, smelling like a newly cleaned court. In the centre, written in neat, small letters were the words, ‘ _Make me fly higher’._

‘Talk to him, Tobio.’ Ushijima’s gruff voice almost seems soft around the edges, and Tobio knows, with an unsavory taste on his tongue, that he needs to do just that, once Shoyo’s plane touches down on the misty grass of Tokyo.

* * *

Oikawa Tooru lands in Tokyo on a warm and breezy spring day, heading straight to an Adlers’ match from the airport. He stands in the front row of the court and cheers for the ace of the hour, his high voice cutting clear of the audience’s screams. His long brown hair is tucked behind his ear, and his glasses hang loose on his nose. He is a few inches shorter than his lover, whose olive eyes find the man’s face after every service ace or kill. The Adler setter watches in simmering jealousy as the two former captains share a piercing look halfway across the court.

Tobio recognizes love when he sees it; he has seen how his sister looks at her boyfriend, the way his mother looks at his father when they laze around in the living room on weekends, or the way Bokuto’s yellow eyes shine like a firefly’s light when he meets Akaashi’s every time he scores against the Adlers. Tooru has always been careful about letting his guard down around Tobio, concealing his emotions behind a perfect smile. But in the dingy, humid locker room where the Adlers rest, Tooru’s eyes display that same, sickeningly sweet domestic love when his gaze locks with Ushijima’s.

Tobio watches with wide eyes as the former Seijoh captain gets on his toes and kisses the ace square on the mouth. Ushijima melts against the display of affection, wrapping his hands around Tooru’s toned waist. The two kiss like the world has melted away around them, lips clashing with a need that Tobio would recognize from the stratosphere. The longing of a distant lover. When they pull back, Tobio averts his eyes, pulling off his sticky jersey as Hoshiumi snickers behind him.

‘Looks like our ace is gonna be the one trading team secrets to the Caucasians, huh?’

Ushijima flings a wet towel at the outside hitter, making Tooru’s laughter echo in the room. ‘He’s a hard nut to crack, don’t worry.’ Ushijima’s stern face turns gentle as his eyes look over at his lover affectionately. After a few minutes, Tooru drags Ushijima away, their fingers interlaced as they exit the locker room. ‘See you later, Tobio chan!’ Tobio waves to no one in particular and bites his tongue.

The wounds of his middle school love are old and dried up, but still present underneath layers of memories tainted with sunflower yellow and deep orange. He remembers the days he had pined over the older setter, a kind of infatuation consuming him every time Tooru set the ball perfectly. But Tobio recognizes it now as what it was- innocent puppy love. Not the type of affection he had for Shoyo, no, not that blood-curdling monster of an emotion that swallowed his being whole. It is at this moment that a notification pops up on his phone.

A text message from Brazil.

It’s a picture of Shoyo in a pair of glasses, white T-shirt and dull red cap. He is holding up a peace sign, and Tobio notices the presence of a dust of light freckles around the man’s nose. He also catches the suitcase behind him. There’s a small text under the picture. Tobio smiles to himself as a garden blooms deep in his chest. He feels the flower of his heart thrash against his chest, seeking light that only the man in the picture can give.

‘I’m coming home, Tobio.’


	4. Mind's a funny place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts and setters don't mix together.

‘Hinata’s here.’

Miwa’s head peaks through Tobio’s door, her voice almost quiet as she says the words. There are loud footsteps against the wood of the stairs. Tobio fixes his messy hair as quickly as he can, feeling his throat close up with fluttering excitement. It feels the same way it did all those years ago, like that day he saw Shoyo fly his highest on the nationals stage. The setter feels his head spin with overwhelming feelings.

‘Kageyamaaaaaaaa!’

Before he can stand up, Tobio is tackled to the bed by a short but strong figure. He gasps lightly as muscular arms wrap themselves around his neck, crushing his chest tight. He instinctively lets his hands slide around Shoyo’s trim torso. His nose scrunches up as he takes in the sweet vanilla of Shoyo’s musk. His orange hair has a sweet floral aroma, one that doesn’t clog Tobio’s senses like a strong cologne would.A giggle tickles his neck, which makes the goosebumps on his arms dance in joy.

Shoyo finally pulls away from the embrace, his sparkling eyes taking in Tobio’s face.

‘You look so much more handsome in real life than you do in pictures.’

Heat rises up Tobio’s cheeks as Shoyo stands up. He hears a small cough coming from the corridor, and hides his embarrassed face in a pillow when Miwa raises an eyebrow. ‘I’ll leave you both to it.’

They settle next to each other, hugging fluffy pillows and catching up. Well, it’s mostly Shoyo bickering on and on about his time in Brazil, with Tobio nodding his head as the ginger’s excitement escalates with every passing sentence. He talks about meeting Oikawa and playing a match against the “Beer Brothers” (which confuses Tobio, but he doesn’t ask anything in favor of watching the stars in Shoyo’s eyes), of his “weeb roomie”, and how he “rose to fame as Ninja Shoyo.” Tobio cracks a little smile at that, imagining his shorter friend in a ridiculous getup.

’You’re playing with Schweiden Adlers, Kageyama?’ Tobio nods curtly and says a little ‘Hmm’, his mind too preoccupied with fully processing Shoyo’s compliment from earlier. He still hasn’t come to terms with the fact that his sunflower is here, finally, in the flesh, wearing the most Kageyama-Tobio-libido-damaging tank top ever. He subtly stares at the man, who has grown so much more handsome over the years. Tobio had always thought of Shoyo as pretty, but now with the added bulk and roughness around his edges, the ginger seems like a wildflower in the marsh.

‘That’s nice. I was planning to join the MSBY Jackals because I saw a….’

Tobio’s mind zones out at the thought of Shoyo in a tight black jersey, playing against him, and he feels a pleasant shiver travel down his spine. An electric pulse of excitement course through his veins, and for some reason, the thought of playing on the opposite side of the court from Shoyo makes Tobio’s heart race a million miles on an endless track. He envisions a powerful service ace, whooshing past Shoyo’s wide eyes; a perfect set to Ushijima that crushes the Jackals’ defense; or perhaps the screws in Shoyo’s mind tightening at the sight of Tobio’s play-

‘Kageyama? Are you listening to me?’

The setter focuses his attention back to his friend, who looks up at him expectantly. ‘Yeah, of course. You know we’re gonna win when you play against us, right, dumbass?’

Shoyo chuckles, eyes aflame with his potent fire for victory. ‘Yeah, we’ll see about that.’ They lie side by side, close enough to hear each other’s breathing. Tobio’s mind keeps repeating Ushijima’s words to him in an infinite loop, like a persistent nagging that just won’t go away.

_I need to talk to him before it’s too late. Before I miss my chance._

‘Hey, Hinata?’

‘Hm?’

Shoyo’s eyes still retain their innocent charm, despite maturity shining through his irises. He looks up through long, pretty lashes that cast a shadow on his powder pink freckles. Tobio wants to kiss his face so bad- slide his mouth across the man’s, caress his soft cheeks and show him all the love that he has been bottling up for so long. And he wants to do it so deep that every time Shoyo touches his own lips, he feels Tobio’s imprint, and is always reminded that he belongs to Tobio. The tall man is almost consumed by the raw desire, to mark, claim and conquer like he does with every court he plays on.

But Kageyama Tobio is a man of many thoughts. And men of thoughts tread too careful for comfort. There are always a trillion thoughts in his head, of what was, what is and what will be. Tobio could build a city with what you could tap from his mind, but just as easily burn it to the ground. His mind is always weighing possibilities and outcomes, always formulating new setting strategies and escape routes from Shoyo. Right now, for example, Tobio believes that talking about his feelings with his best friend could damage their friendship.

All those years of pining and sleepless nights say ‘are you fucking crazy’, but now, Tobio thinks, is not time. Not time yet for him to lay himself bare for Hinata Shoyo to consume and steal away. Not yet, he rationalizes with his wanton desire to get what he wants. To claim what is so close, yet still feels like is stuck halfway across the globe. He battles this need with logic, because logic is easier to accept for him. Logic is why he didn’t mention their first kiss, because logic knew that if they talked, they wouldn’t have stopped from falling in love. Logic knew Tobio wouldn’t have been happy being in love with the most beautiful boy he has met while not being able to hold him in his arms. And right now, logic is what holds him back. Because as Tobio looks deeper into those galaxy eyes, heart failing to catch his fall for Shoyo, logic is loud and clear.

_You’re scared right now. You aren’t ready to tell Hinata what you feel because you’re a coward. What if you hand him your heart on a silver platter and he crushes it? What if you let your guard down? What if he sees you as you are, sees what you are on the inside, and hates it? What then?_

Fear, Tobio realizes, is what drags him away this minute, from reaching forward and kissing his sunflower. He smiles and ruffles warm orange locks.

‘Nothing. I’m just excited to beat your ass next time we play.’


	5. Kageyama Tobio isn't a pussy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobio takes the 2012 Pixar movie 'Brave' way too seriously.

Two nights before their match, Tobio asks his sister to do his nails.

‘Like with nail polish or….’ Miwa looks up from her laptop with an amused look on her face. ‘No, idiot,’ Tobio sighs, plopping down onto the couch. ‘I need them done before I leave to Tokyo tomorrow. I’m playing against Hinata’s team.’

His sister whistles, putting her feet up on the table. ‘Alright. I’ll do it on two conditions.’

‘Whatever you want. I just need them to be perfect.’

Tobio regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth when Miwa runs to get a manicure kit way too enthusiastically. He looks down at his nails, trimmed perfectly, but he knows they need more work. He needs every set, every toss to be perfect. He doesn’t doubt himself, of course, but extra caution hurt no one.

It is halfway through their quiet sibling night, as Miwa is carefully tending to Tobio’s cuticles, when she lays out her demands.

‘Number one. I get to apply a layer of black polish to your nails if you win the match. If you lose, well…you can think of another color.’

‘That’s ridiculous. It’s a win-win situation for you.’

‘Shush, I’m not done.’ She begins to massage a sweet-smelling lotion into his softened cuticles, a devilish smirk playing on her lips. ‘Number two, you ask Shoyo out to dinner no matter the result of the match.’

Tobio splutters on his words, voice rising to a high octave. ‘I’m not gonna-‘

‘I can fuck up your nails right now if you want me to.’

‘That’s ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.’

‘At least I haven’t been tip-toeing my way around the love of my life since high school.’

‘Miwa. I can’t do that.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t even know if he is INTO me, I…’

‘Tobio, he literally shoved his tongue down your throat as a birthday gift. Are you fucking dumb?’

‘IT WAS JUST A PECK, OH MY GOD.’

Miwa grabs a sharp looking tool from her purple pouch, and raises her eyebrow in question. ‘I’m just making your decisions for you, you full grown pussy, because your doodoo head can’t think properly about Hinata without becoming a mess.’ 

Tobio backs away from his sister with a fake pout. He knows that he has to confront Shoyo sooner or later, but he’s petrified of the answer that he will receive.

Miwa sighs, taking his hands into her soft ones. Her sharp features soften slightly.

‘Tobio, I have seen how he has made you. I don’t think I have ever seen you smile with anyone outside home like you did with Hinata. You love that boy with all your heart.' Her darkened blue eyes skim over her brother's contorted face. 'I can't see you go through this anymore, Tobi. As happy as he makes you, being this way, away from him, is killing you. You hardly smile nowadays. You don't want to go on any dates that I set you up on because, well, obviously you still revolve around him. I wanna see you happy. Happier than when you played in the Olympics. If you think Mama and Dad are going to oppose you or something, don't. I know they will have your back. I just wanna see my little brother happy. Is that too much to ask for?'

The setter’s chest hurts at her words. He grips her hands tight and lets out a shaky breath. This is inevitable, he thinks to himself. He can’t run away from this forever. He knows this, but his legs don’t seem to take another step forward. Like when a long match’s exhaustion washes over him like a surging wave, and his knees wobble from its impact. It’s not like he doesn’t want to run towards Shoyo, grab him by his shoulder and scoop him into his arms to never let go; it’s that his mind chains him down to this spot.

And Miwa too, knows this about Tobio, about how funny his mind can be sometimes. It worries her quite a bit, seeing her brother deep in thought, his mind ticking away like an electricity-struck clock. She has seen him lose himself in the middle of the day, eyes washing over her face like she’s a ghost. Her little brother’s mind is like the last domino in a chain, so nakedly susceptible to little changes in his life.

But she also knows that Tobio is surprisingly brash and impulsive sometimes. Like the time he walked down from his room and announced, as if he was asking what was for breakfast, that he was planning to go to Karasuno. Or the day he broke down in her arms at age seventeen, words so bare and unbridled, as he confessed about how much he loves Shoyo, about how he wanted to run to him and tell him not to go to Brazil.

So Miwa Kageyama isn’t too astonished when Tobio chuckles under his breath and shakes his head. ‘Fine. Have it your way. I’ll ask him out for dinner the day after tomorrow. Deal?’

Miwa laughs and tousles his hair, grabbing a bottle of clear polish.

‘Deal. Oh, and I know just the place, little one.’

* * *

Tobio kind of wants to punch Miwa in the face.

His fingers shakily pick away at his perfectly manicured nails, temple throbbing with a feeling that he has never experienced before. The air in the locker room is stale and suffocating. Tobio’s lungs feel heavy, like someone just poured cement into them and he is trying to gasp for breath. The words still ring loud and clear in his mind, despite his thoughts fading and blurring into each other, like after a drink or two.

_Tobio-kun, wouldja mind not picking a fight with my wing spiker?_

His teammates say something to him, something about _are you okay, Kageyama_ , and no, he is not okay, not in the slightest, because he kind of wants to punch Miwa in the face, add Miya Atsumu in the mix too, and then maybe he will be fine, or maybe he will want to punch them more than once.

_My wing spiker._

Or maybe he should punch himself for thinking Shoyo wouldn’t have moved on from him already, like the handsome, perfect Shoyo wouldn’t have easily gotten himself someone else, like, oh, the handsome, perfect Miya Atsumu, like Shoyo would still care about that dumb, drunk kiss from all those years ago, like Shoyo would still be stuck up with his awkward high school setter best friend, like Shoyo would even entertain the thought of falling in love with him, and really, Tobio wouldn’t mind a black eye from his own fist, and…

‘Kageyama!’

He is shaken roughly by Ushijima, whose olive eyes are blown wide with concern for the first time since they have met. ‘Are you okay?’

The hands on his shoulders ground him down to earth, stopping him from floating away along with his thoughts. His brain is racking away at his skull, trying to obliterate him from within, screaming at him that he is a coward, that he is too late. He doesn’t want to think about Shoyo with anyone other than him, let alone that cunning fox. He remembers those haughty eyes from all those years ago, going from arrogant to almost predatory when they had landed on Shoyo. Tobio had almost tore through the net with his bare hands and ripped the chiseled setter’s face off for even looking at Shoyo that way, like he was some mere piece of meat to be devoured.

Atsumu had looked hungry back then, and now, Tobio realizes, he looks almost satiated.

_My wing spiker, hmm?_

‘I’m fine, Wakatoshi-kun. I just need to wash up. I’ll be right back.’

* * *

Thankfully for Tobio, his thoughts never cloud him when he plays.

Volleyball is where his personal feelings never play a prominent role, because once he steps on the court and feels the skin of the ball on his hands, the intricately woven tapestries of doubts and insecurities don’t hold Tobio back from giving it his all. Volleyball is where he cannot think, cannot doubt, cannot even pause for a second. He moves his body like he was born on the court, like his feet were always destined to be here. That's how it always has been for the Adlers’ setter, and today’s match is no different.

Well, except for the times Miya Atsumu scores service aces, when he wants to physically launch himself across the net and rip his throat open with his teeth. And the times when Shoyo jumps impossibly high, which makes his being rattle with the force of a million tremors, and he wants to get down on his knees and profess his love like a mad man.

Other than that, it’s no different.

Tobio is highly aware of the loud Bokuto, whose presence almost makes him cheer up and shut out his looming thoughts. He meets Akaashi’s eyes from across the court between a set, and silently bows. Bokuto coos from afar, calling him ‘the cutest kouhai from Karasuno’, which makes Shoyo go crazy. It is during a certain timeout in the middle of the match when his eyes lock with Miya’s. The MSBY setter has the audacity to smirk at him as he sits on the bench. Tobio grits his teeth as he wipes his brow, fingers twitching to pull Shoyo to his chest and shout a loud ‘fuck you, he’s mine’ to Miya. But before he can think of other wonderful ways of killing the man in cold blood, he sees something out of the corner of his eye.

The setter is kissing someone on the mouth.

Tobio’s heart drops to his stomach, _no, god no, please, don’t let it be Shoyo, I can’t handle it, please_ , and that’s when he hears a high-pitched scream.

‘Omi-kun, yer so mean to me!’

‘Get your sweaty fucking mouth away from me, you piss blond bitch! How many times do I have to tell you to keep your mouth to yourself when we are playing? God, do you have any idea how many germs are on your lips right now? Jesus, you’re so disgusting.’

Then there is a bright, loud laugh, and Tobio does turn at that, eyes locking on his sunflower from across the court, who tumbles over in laughter.

‘Awww, Omi-kun…he just loves you a lot, let him be,’ Bokuto muses. Tobio doesn’t care to hear the rest of their conversation, cheeks straining with how wide he is smiling.

‘Um, Toshi-kun…’ Hoshiumi whispers. ‘I think Kags is starting to malfunction.’

Ushijima’s thick eyebrows crease in confusion. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah uh…’ Romero tugs Tobio by the arm. ‘I don’t think I have ever seen him smile like this. It’s kind of creepy. Hey, uh, Kageyama, are you okay?’

Tobio’s almost jumping in joy, feeling warmth spread through his veins. _Shoyo isn’t with that blond fuck, praise god_. Shoyo can still be his. Shoyo is probably single. He wants to kiss Miwa on the cheek and buy her a ridiculous amount of Louis Vuitton bags right now.

‘I’m good. I’m great actually. I’m fucking awesome.’

‘Dude, did they put you on something?’ Hoshiumi stands up panicked. ‘Coach! Kageyama is on steroids, make him sit out of this match! I don’t wanna get banned ‘cause of this dumb fuck.’

‘Shush, Hoshi. Hey, Tobio, are you really okay?’ Ushijima shakes his shoulder again, but his eyes are fixed on the ginger.

Tobio is happy. Ecstatic. His mind is blank. He knows what is coming, because when his thoughts aren’t screaming like a crowd of witch-burners at him, Tobio becomes bold.

‘Hey Hinata!’

The players of both the teams fall silent. Shoyo looks up at his friend, traces of a laugh still dotting his face. Tobio looks into his eyes, for the first time in his life without wavering or looking away, without the need to run away tugging the nerves of his brain, he shouts, loud and bold. He is smiling with his eyes in front of everyone, and for once, Tobio doesn’t think, at all.

_I just want to see my little brother happy._

‘Go out on a date with me after this match! Loser pays!’

It is almost comical, the way Shoyo’s eyes widen in surprise. He starts coughing as Bokuto breaks into laughter. Atsumu joins in, so does Tomas.

Hoshiumi tugs Ushijima by the sleeve.‘Toshi-kun, is he seriously asking him out right now?’

‘That is what it appears to be, yes.’

‘That’s pretty gay, Kags.’

‘With all due respect, suck a dick, Hoshi-kun.’

Ushijima pats the setter on his back and whispers a ‘Good job, but did you really have to do this in the middle of a match’ as Shoyo regains his composure. Tobio’s stomach flips when the ginger’s intense brown eyes look into his. Like the first time they performed the quick attack, his eyes are daring, confident. Challenging Tobio to throw more his away. And this time, Tobio is ready to give.

‘Pray for your wallet, then, Kageyama-kun!’

They smile at each other for a quick second before turning back to their respective teams. The whistle is blown, and the next serve is Tobio’s. He feels his skin sizzle with anticipation for what’s to come.

He isn’t majorly disappointed when the Adlers lose, not really, because they played with pride and power, and also, well. Shoyo is a chillingly scary opponent. They stand facing each other, the flimsy net the only barrier between them at this second.

‘I’m here,’ Shoyo says. The brown of his eyes glisten with a fire that Tobio has never seen before. He wants to devour him, but not here, not now. There is an unspoken agreement between them, and Tobio feels it seep into his bones. _No more running away. This is happening._

‘You’re here.'


	6. Third time is the charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata Shoyo is the king of subverting expectations.

Tobio stares in utter disbelief at the ‘date outfit’ that Miwa had so humbly packed for him. It’s a bright, orange sweater, the color of Shoyo’s locks. There’s note on top of it.

‘Trust Miwa when she says orange suits you.’

He lets out a deep, long sigh.

Tobio quickly dries his hair, pairing the shocking sweater with his old ripped black jeans. It’s absolutely ridiculous to Tobio; he would never wear this given a choice, but somehow, he pulls it off.

_Why do I feel like I could be Karasuno’s mascot right now?_

His heart is still somersaulting in his ribcage as he combs his damp hair back, showing care to his appearance for tonight. Tobio knows he was too quick to act today, but he feels so startlingly alive. The heat of the match, along with the knowledge that Shoyo agreed to go out with him makes him want to break into a dance, however awkward his limbs might coordinate.

He liberally applies the strawberry chapstick that Miwa had stuffed into his suitcase, cringing at the sugary smell. Tobio is plucking at a loose orange thread when his phone rings.

A picture of him and Shoyo from the last day of school pops up on his screen. _Shit._

‘Hey.’

‘Hey, Kageyama.’

Shoyo’s voice is unusually…gentle. This tone, calm and mellow, makes the hair on his skin rise. He would go and pluck the moon out of the sky if Shoyo asked him ever so gently, and he begins to wonder if the ginger plays this to his favor. Or maybe he’s just so beyond saving that anything Shoyo says has this impact on him.

Tobio smiles at the mirror of his hotel room and checks himself out in it. ‘Tell me.’

‘I’m here. What’s your room number?’

The setter chews on his lip as he saunters around in the room, feet sinking into the comfort of the soft carpet. This is technically his first date, and Shoyo must probably think he is lame, a total virgin, who may or may not be saving himself for a special someone. Tobio is scared, but not in the way he was before. He is gripped by the need to sweep Shoyo off his feet, to wholly give himself to the man without holding back. He doesn’t want him to think that he is a cold fish, no; Tobio wants tonight to be different. He is an adult now, not that shut-off teenager who could never stand in the same five-mile radius as his raging homoerotic thoughts.

The tweety- bell of the room pulls him away from his monologue.

It’s happening. Everything he has ever wanted, everything he has ever chased after for the past seven years is here, at his doorstep. Tobio can do this. When he opens the door, his palms shaky and temple buzzing, he lets out a mental whimper.

Okay, so Tobio definitely cannot do this.

Shoyo knocks the air out of him. He is clad in a loose silky black shirt and jeans, with damp locks that are pushed to the side. The top two buttons are undone, showing just a teasing sliver of tanned skin. The light of the room catches the glint of a singular stoned ear piercing. _He has an agenda. He wants me to fucking go into a coma._

Tobio’s eyes scramble to take in more, more and more of Shoyo’s appearance, but the man is entering the room and slamming the door shut before the setter can fully drink it in. He offers a honest smile as he hands Tobio a bouquet of flowers. It’s an assortment, of pink and purple petals. _How fucking sweet. I didn’t get him shit._

Tobio reaches out and surprises himself by tugging Shoyo by the hand. The ginger falls forward onto his chest with a gasp and starts to giggle. Feeling almost reckless, the setter buries his nose into Shoyo’s hair, taking in his scent.

’Surprises, surprises, Kageyama-kun. You just keep shocking me today.’ The man wraps his hand around Tobio’s waist, making his sensitive skin itch with a thirst to be touched. Tobio wonders how Shoyo’s hands would feel- on his chest, running down his abs, squeezing his shoulders, wrapping around his-

‘Do you like the flowers?’

‘It’s alright.’ Shoyo looks up through amused eyes. His lashes fan his pretty eyes as he blinks expectantly. Tobio’s eyes wander to the man’s lips, which look almost cherry red. ‘Only alright?’ ‘Hmm.’ ‘You’re blushing, though, Kageyama.’

Tobio pushes him away and sits down on the bed, fiddling with his fingers as Shoyo lays the flowers on a table. ‘Am not.’

‘Hm?’ ‘I’m not blushing.’

‘You are, Tobio.’

The setter feels his cheeks light up on fire at the use of his first name, and he looks up hesitantly at Shoyo. The remnants of a lanky, awkward child have vanished, and Shoyo stands right now, confident, almost cocky, as he looks down at Tobio. His gaze is intense, almost challenging, but not in his usual flamboyant manner. This is more subdued and washed down, a reserved gaze that Tobio feels privileged to be seeing. But this is a game, Tobio recalls. On and off court, there will always be a perpetual tension between them, the sweetest one, to come out on top as the winner.

’Well, then, I can’t really help if you make me feel things, Shoyo.’

Shoyo’s averts his eyes and coughs, earning Tobio a victorious smirk.

Tonight is going to be long and eventful.

The restaurant that Miwa had recommended, ‘Seoul Kitchen’, is a Korean barbecue place in the heart of Shinjuku. It is a luxurious place, though, which they realize when they step into it. Unlike traditional barbecue restaurants, this one is quieter, with spacious booths and soft jazz music filling up the air. The food is what Shoyo and Tobio need after a good game- sizzling and delicious street barbecue meat that has a touch of opulence to it.

Throughout dinner, there is a tangible feeling of heat between them, like a bubble expanding, about to pop any second. Shoyo’s eyes are always drinking Tobio in- staying on his lips when he talks, drinking in his chest through his sweater when he stretches, or holding his gaze when they fall into comfortable silence between sentences. The restaurant’s ambience doesn’t exactly help Tobio’s cause either. The lighting is a sensual yellow, which looks fucking fantastic against the contrasting tan of Shoyo’s freckled skin.

It is halfway through a decadent chocolate dessert that Shoyo slides his rough palm over Tobio’s. He stares into the blue pools of Tobio’s eyes silently, with a neutral expression masking his face. Tobio flinches at the chills that run rack his body when Shoyo runs a thumb across his wrist, stroking leisurely at a roughened patch of skin. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you liked me before?’

The question rattles the cage of Tobio’s mind, playing on loop. Shoyo’s tone is hushed, almost careful, like Tobio is a fragile, delicate piece of glass. _Why didn’t I, Shoyo?_

‘I don’t really know.’

Shoyo hums and grips Tobio’s long fingers in his own, eyes glossing over his lips for a fleeting second. The setter gulps; his throat feels dry with thirst. Shoyo almost has an air of intimidation around him that unnerves Tobio, like he could take one wrong step and fall into a predator’s jaws. It’s strange, but in a delicious way, the aura that Shoyo traps him in: a warmness accompanied by a blistering heat that threatens to turn him to dust. Tobio licks his drying lips, itching to play with fire.

‘But it doesn’t matter now, does it?’

‘I guess not.’ Shoyo breaks his gaze, hanging his head and smiling. ‘What matters is I’ve got you to myself now. Finally.’

‘Yes, you do.’

Their fingers interlace like puzzle pieces. There is a light breeze wrapping their bodies as they make their way back to Tobio’s hotel. They walk side by side with a searing grip around each other’s hand. The streetlights of Shinjuku are pretty on this full-moon night, dancing in their blue and pink hues against the glass of splendorous jewelry and designer stores. The night is silent except for the bustle of the road. Tobio’s heart isn’t racing like back when he was 17; now it feels natural, almost like the missing piece of his life is standing at his front porch, and he is simply welcoming him home.

When they reach his room, Tobio tugs Shoyo into an embrace. It’s like the electric dome around them comes crashing down in a trembling shatter. Tobio feels Shoyo’s heart thud against his own chest like a drum’s beat, and pulls back to look at him. The ginger offers a lopsided smirk and pulls him by the neck.

The next two minutes are a blur.

Shoyo quickly gets up on his toes and kisses him, this time so much different from the last, because it is a fucking waterfall- the release of seven years’ worth of tension and yearning. Tobio is almost suffocated by the feeling that strangles his neck, a painful thirst to consume Hinata Shoyo whole, right now, keep this man to himself and steal him away from the eyes of the world. Shoyo’s voice is pretty as he lets out small whimpers when their mouths explore unknown territory.

Despite the rush of the kiss being heady, time plays out slow when they fall onto the bed. Shoyo straddles Tobio and grins down, his eyes ablaze with the hunger that Tobio saw earlier today from across the court. The hunger that needs to claim and own. ‘Tobio-kun,’ Shoyo whispers hotly, ‘kiss me like you missed me, will you?’

It’s a mess of limbs that follow as Tobio easily throws the man on top and traps him under his muscular body. It’s amusing, the way Shoyo’s eyes light up with excitement when he is manhandled. Tobio makes a mental note of that and dives in for a hot kiss. Their tongues swipe messily, and Shoyo slips his hands around Tobio’s neck to pull him closer.

The setter is overwhelmed by the surging feelings of affection that blow up in his chest. He has never craved someone as badly, never needed to love someone as desperately as he does Shoyo. He smiles to himself and kisses his best friend with vigor, like this is the last hour of his life. Their bodies are so close, close enough for Tobio to feel their crotches rub against each other. He bites down on Shoyo’s thick lower lip, smirking with pride when a broken moan rips through the man’s throat. His hands pin the ginger’s hands above his head, and he delves deeper into his mouth, almost pinning the man down with his kiss. Tobio’s message is loud and clear: _here’s how much I missed you_. Tobio is so addicted to Shoyo's little sounds that are muffled by their kiss, and wonders how good he would sound when he is getting pleasured.

Even when they pull back for a breather, faces red, lips parted and panting, the primal instinct of his begs for everything Shoyo. The taste of his lips is almost as sweet as his scent, lingering like a dream on Tobio’s mouth. ‘Tobio-kun.’ Shoyo slumps back on the mattress, placing a hand on his eyes and laughing.

‘God, I want you.’ Shoyo’s flushed voice is music to Tobio’s ears. He runs his fingers against the skin of his collar, eyes asking for permission to touch. Shoyo nods, letting Tobio unbutton his shirt. Tobio’s breath hitches in his throat when he sees the defined muscles on his torso, and with each button down, he allows himself to feast on the sight of the man’s wondrous body. ‘Fuck.’

He wants to worship Shoyo’s body and make a whole religion out of it. Shoyo relaxes as Tobio bends down to dot kisses under his chin, down to his neck, and sucking at a spot above his shoulder. ‘Can I leave a mark, Shoyo?’

‘Please.’ Tobio chuckles against the man’s neck at how frantic he sounds. ‘Desperate, are we?’

Shoyo lets out a loud moan when Tobio bites down on the smooth expanse of his neck, sucking the flesh into his mouth and licking it expertly. ‘Oh, p-please, Tobio…it’s not like- ah! It’s not like y-you don’t need this, hm?’

Before Tobio can bicker back, Shoyo slips his fingers under the hem of his sweater, using his blunt nails to scratch up his back. The sensation makes all his bearings slip away from his control, and he bites down harder on the blooming mark he has left. ‘Shoyo, fuck…’ Tobio slides down to Shoyo’s chest and licks at a nipple, earning him a thread of broken moans. He sucks earnestly at the nubs, hands holding the man’s soft waist with a passionate grip. Sliding his tongue down in a filthy swipe, he begins to lick around the ridges of his abs. His head is clouded with lust as his mouth wanders around Shoyo’s hot torso, and he feels like a devotee offering all his reverence to a god.

‘Tobio-kun, can I touch you?’

When Shoyo helps him out of his sweater and begins to administer soft touches to his sensitive skin, Tobio feels like losing his goddamned mind. His mouth is sinful, needs to be banned and brandished illegal, because when Hinata Shoyo uses his small mouth to kiss and lick around his chest and abs, Tobio wants to bury himself in embarrassment from the pathetic noises that escape him. ‘Oh, Tobio is sensitive here, hm?’ Shoyo slips his tongue against the sides of his hips, which makes Tobio buckle his hips frantically. His jeans feel tight around his dick, which is now fully hard because of Shoyo’s touches.

‘St-stop it.’

‘But Tobio-kun, you sound so pretty. And god, you look so…fuck. Makes me wanna seat myself on your dick and watch your face when I ride you.’

Tobio becomes a bumbling mess at that, gasping as he imagines the dirty image in his head, of Shoyo’s thick thighs wrapped around his waist as he bounces with enthusiasm on his dick, head falling back as his eyes loll, mouth open as loud, wanton moans rip from him. He feels like he will come untouched if Shoyo says anything else.

‘Do you like that, Tobio? Would you like it if I just lay you down and used you how I please, hm? Use your dick to pleasure myself, let you fill me up and mark your chest when I come? Would you like that, baby?’ Shoyo’s hand starts to palm at the front of Tobio’s pants, fondling his growing bulge as he chuckles.

Tobio bucks into his hand and pulls him down by his wrist, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. ‘Two questions, Shoyo.’ He has no control of his mind or body right now, and chooses to completely surrender himself to the man in front of him, dignity be damned.

‘Yes, Tobio-kun? Ask away.’

‘First, will you be my boyfriend?’

Shoyo laughs, hand working his zipper down, still palming at his hard dick, and pecks Tobio on the cheek.

‘Of course I will. I would love to be your boyfriend, Tobio-kun.’ Tobio’s chest expands with joy. ‘What’s the other one, baby?’

Tobio’s eyes fall down to the tight pants clutching his thick, juicy thighs and gulps. His voice is shaky as he breathes out, ‘Can I fuck your thighs?’

Shoyo tilts his head, running his gaze across the expanse of Tobio’s chest. His expression looks almost dark as he leans forward and takes Tobio’s earlobe into his mouth. The goosebumps on his skin rise when the ginger whispers in a sultry manner. ‘Say please, Tobio.’

Tobio’s ego lays abandoned at the hotel room threshold, and he does not care, for his mind knows no better judgement. Pride isn’t here with him, because his thirst for Shoyo is larger than his petty dignity. ‘Please, Shoyo. Please.’

‘Well, I would’ve said yes anyway, but,’ The gingers begins to unbuckle his pants, putting on a show as he wiggles his hips to slide them down his thighs. ‘It’s nice to see you be such a good boy, Tobio.’

* * *

Tobio chokes on his own spit very disgracefully when Shoyo pulls his dick out of his pants and wraps his hand around it. There’s a lazy smile on Shoyo’s lips as he tugs at the hardened erection. He catches Tobio’s eyes and deliberately fakes a pout. _Damn you_ , Tobio thinks. _You’re going to be the death of me, and I’m going to welcome you with open arms and open legs anyway._ ‘Tobio-kun,’ Shoyo purrs. ‘Can I suck you off first?'

His mind is foggy, every moment of his body feeling tenfold more amplified, as if he is floating in an airless space. ‘No.’

‘But why not?’ Shoyo’s caramel eyes melt like sweet candy, and Tobio almost gives in.

‘Because I kind of want to live long enough to play on the Olympic team again.’

Shoyo laughs and tugs Tobio by the hip, sticking his tongue out and licking at his neck. The feeling of Shoyo’s warm hand around his dick and a desperate mouth on his sensitive nape makes Tobio groan in pleasure. Shoyo’s usual voice rises to a bone-liquefying higher octave as he whispers lowly, ‘But Tobio, I wanna taste you on my tongue.’

Tobio bucks into the fist around his dick, feeling his hips grind forward involuntarily. His mind feels delirious with every word that Shoyo utters, and never in a million years would’ve Tobio imagined that his pure, beautiful best friend would be so filthy with his mouth.

‘Shoyo, stop it, please…’ ‘Wanna choke on it, Tobio…’ ‘Shoyo, I can’t do this anymore…’

‘Wanna feel it in the back of my throat.’ ‘P-please, st-‘ ‘Wanna feel your pretty setter fingers tug my hair and hold me down as you fuck my throat, Tobio.’

Tobio swears he doesn’t even feel like he is in his body right now; feels like his soul astral projected a hot minute ago, because words aren’t supposed to make him feel like this. Words aren’t supposed to make him think of all the perverted things he has wanted to do to Shoyo since he was a teenager, and hit him full on, catch him like a deer in headlights and bash him in.

Tobio feels his body tremble as the devilish voice against his ear continues to torture his raging boner. ‘I need it so bad, Tobio-kun. I wanna hear myself choke on your cock. Always have. Ever since that day I kissed you, you have no idea how much I wanted you. How many times I thought of all the filthy things you could do to me, of all the positions in which you could fuck my brains out.’ A relief of reassurance hits Tobio, and he feels happy he wasn’t the only one stuck in a cage of sexual frustration. ‘Shit. W-what else?’

‘I used to finger myself-‘ ‘Fucking hell, babe…’ ‘I used to think of you and your pretty fingers because mine are so short, Tobio. Always wanted you inside me. Always needed you to make me yours. But r-right now, I just. I want you to fucking wreck me…’ Shoyo withdraws his hand and turns around, and Tobio watches with wide eyes as he pulls down his briefs and bends down. Shoyo hooks his hands around his thighs and wiggles his thick ass.

‘…Kageyama-kun.’

The promises of a tomorrow, where Tobio could be making mind-boggling love to Shoyo, of marking him up and worshipping his body like he needs to, are at his fingertips. However, right now, right here in this stuffy hotel room in Shinjuku, Tokyo, Tobio is a madman. When he sticks his painfully throbbing cock between Shoyo’s sweet, sculpted thighs, and starts fucking into the heat, Tobio loses all semblance of reality. His mind topples, and he can’t believe how desperate he is for relief, how he wouldn’t hesitate sacrificing one of his teammates to stay here forever. He doesn’t understand the words that escape his mouth as Shoyo squeezes his toned, pretty thighs around his dick.

The amount of pre-cum that coats Shoyo’s thighs makes him flinch in embarrassment, but when he hears high little broken whimpers blend with his raw groans, he looks down, throwing all his thoughts away. Shoyo has wrapped his hand around his own dick, and the image alone, of his best friend, his eternal rival, his _boyfriend_ , looking back at him with pink cheeks and a naked, hungry expression, tips Tobio over the edge. His hips spasm as he releases a gut-wrecking load all over Shoyo’s thighs. Tobio’s big toned body cannot handle the exhaustion, and he falls forward against Shoyo’s sweat covered back. ‘Fuck, Tobio-kun. I wanna keep hearing you when you c-come. You sound like a wet dream.’

_Says you._

‘Can I help you get off, Shoyo?’

‘Yeah.’ Despite Tobio’s exhaustion, his mind comes back to him, finally, full throttle.

’Say please, Shoyo. Where are your manners, hm?’

Shoyo whines at that, falling onto the setter’s lap and tugging at Tobio’s hands. ‘P-please, Tobio. Make me come, please. I wa- wanna come for you.’

It is endearing, the way Shoyo’s cock is completely engulfed by Tobio’s huge hand. He finds himself almost hardening at the beauty of the man laid out on his lap, and he runs a hand down to his ass to give it a squeeze. As he watches Shoyo’s wrecked expression, he bends down and breathes a hot breath on his ear. Two can play this game.

‘Shoyo is so pretty. I can’t even imagine how pretty you would be clenching around my dick. Your ass is so perfect. Bet you would take me like a good boy, hm? The best boy? You’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever laid eyes on, Shoyo. Makes me wanna keep you to myself. Never wanna share you. Don’t even want anyone to look at you, babe. All mine.’

‘Fuck, Tobio. I’m all yours?’

Tobio’s chest swells with affection at that, at the soft broken question that Shoyo breathes out, and he presses a kiss to the ginger’s forehead.

‘Yes, Shoyo. You’re all mine. And I’m yours, yeah?’ ‘Yeah, you’re mine. T-tobio-kun is all mine, fuck.’

‘Are you close, Shoyo?’ ‘Y-yes, baby. Can I?’

Tobio speeds up his pace, eyes endearingly taking in the sight of his boyfriend. ‘Of course you can. Come for me, baby?’

The image of Shoyo’s face when he releases, eyes locked on his own, reminds him of the very first sunflower he ever saw bloom. It’s a downright filthy comparison, to compare a flower to a man having an orgasm, but somehow, the expression on Shoyo’s face is anything but. It’s almost beautiful, and Tobio thinks to himself, about how Shoyo looks even more beautiful than he does when he plays; his eyelids fluttering shut gently, his slick lips open in a silent scream, face dazed and wrecked. But to Tobio, his boyfriend seems to be the pinnacle of beauty at this exact moment. ‘Tobio-kun…’ Shoyo grins down at him with his ethereal glow. ‘You’re the best.’

When Tobio Kageyama sees a sunflower bloom the third time in his life, he is twenty-one, fearless and in love with Hinata fucking Shoyo. ‘So are you, babe.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo <3 This is technically the end of the story ahhhhh <3 If you read this far, thank you sm! The next chapter is an extra chapter and the plot ends here.


	7. Hasty, drunken nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue ish. Last chapter spoilers ahead.

**< Spoilers for chapter 402, along with headcannon: Argentina wins>**

‘You’re all sore losers.’ Tooru fixes his glasses and leans against Ushijima in a drunken haze. Tobio swirls his chopsticks in a hot bowl of ramen. He smiles at his captain, who offers him a slight shake of the head. But Tobio’s mind is elsewhere, distracted by the heat spreading through his skin as his boyfriend slips his hand across his thigh. ‘Ah, Oika-san, don’t say that,’ Shoyo smiles, reaching out and ruffling his hair. He acts like everything is normal, like the Japan and Argentina players are simply dining and nothing conspicuous is happening under the table. ‘Shoyooooo, not you, of course. You’re the sweetest. I'm talking about your oaf of a boyfriend.’ Tobio half-heartedly sticks his tongue out at Tooru, and shifts his gaze to the warm presence next to him.

‘Shoyoooooo, I don’t understand why you’re with himmmm….you should’ve bagged that other setter while you had the chance.’ Miya looks up at that, snorting when Sakusa raises an eyebrow. ‘You still cannn, Shoyooooo, leave Tobio to rot.’ Tooru’s drunken mumbling makes Tobio burst out in laughter, momentarily forgetting about the perils to his dick. A few feet away, he can see in his peripheral, the sight of a loud Bokuto kissing Akaashi’s face sloppily. The couple excuse themselves from the gathering and head home while Tooru rambles on. ‘Oika-san, Tsumu is married to Omi-kun.’

Tooru startles and extends a hand to Miya, smiling widely and saying a genuine ‘Congratulations.’ Ushijima pulls his hand away and hugs him close. ‘Tooru, we attended the wedding.’

Everyone at the table laughs at that, turning their attention to Tooru, and Shoyo uses this opportunity to shift his body impossibly closer to Tobio’s. His breath smells like the sweet sake he has in his hand, and he leans to his ear to whisper, ‘Besides, Tobio-kun is the only one who can satisfy me, hm?’

Before Tobio can turn his face away and conceal his flustering face, Tooru loudly announces, ‘Really? Speaking of, why aren’t we, Toshi?’

‘Why aren’t we what, Tooru?’ ‘Married.’

Shoyo’s warm hand leaves Tobio’s needy skin, and he tips the glass in his hand towards their captain, whose eyes are suddenly wide despite his obviousness lack of sobriety. ‘What did you say?’

‘Marry me, you coward.’

Ushijima’s expression stays neutral for a solid minute before a cracks a little smile. Tobio looks at the couple, at the way Ushijima’s broad frame completely swallows up Tooru, at the softness of his captain’s eyes, at the way Tooru’s gaze is unwavering and bold with his proclamation. His heart warms up at the thought of two of his favorite seniors tying the knot, and he looks away with a grin as Ushijima stammers. ‘Y-yeah, okay.’

‘Cool. Now take me home and gimme some engagement banging.’

‘Ah, dude, gross.’ ‘I didn’t need to hear that.’ ‘Omi-kun, don’t pretend yer gonna barf.’ The teams snicker silently as the Japan captain drags the hammered Argentina setter home after a silent bow of apology. Tobio slumps back in his seat as a pleasant vibration blankets his body, the rich alcohol clouding his vision slightly.

‘Tobio-kun.’ Ah, yes. He had almost forgotten about his devil spawn of a boyfriend. ‘Yes, babe?’

‘Come with me.’ _Oh oh_. This never ends well.

It’s been more than three years since they’ve been together, but every time they touch, it feels like a new spark is about to blow up Tobio’s vision. Shoyo is a deception, always the sweetest, purest man in front of everyone, with his hands always hooked sweetly around Tobio’s, offering bright smiles to their friends and putting on the face of an angel. But Tobio knows. He’s seen the insatiable eyes that linger on his body behind closed doors, the sadistic words that whip his skin, the pleasure that Shoyo derives every time Tobio beseeches for more. Shoyo is the beautiful illusion that haunts Tobio’s every night, and he couldn’t ask for more.

‘Kageyama? Are you in there?’ Tobio clamps down tightly on his lip as Miya’s voice echoes inside the restroom. He clenches his fists against the stall door and looks down, breath stopping halfway in his throat as Shoyo sucks at the hardening cock between his lips. His eyes are glossed over with tears, and Tobio panics, feeling a groan bubbling in his chest. He has become so vocal these days, letting his sounds rip through their shared Tokyo home every time Shoyo feels like playing around with his body. But now, he needs to swallow it down, however difficult it might be. ‘Kageyamaaaa?’

Shoyo slowly slides the cock out of his mouth, leaving a wet string of saliva on his way back, and looks up through moist lashes. ‘Answer him, Tobio-kun.’ ‘Babe, I can’t,’ Tobio harshly whispers, and almost cries out when Shoyo stops stroking his attention-craving dick. ‘Answer him, Tobio,’ the ginger repeats, his voice laced with danger. Tobio gulps, shivering when Shoyo’s expression hardens, and he looks up with a cautious gaze. ‘Or you won’t come tonight.’

Tobio steadies his breathing, cursing himself for being so _fucking_ affected by everything Hinata Shoyo does. ‘I’m here, Atsumu. Y-you guys head home.’ ‘Is Shoyo there with you?’

Shoyo smiles up sweetly when Tobio looks at him, eyes locked on his target as he slides his wet mouth all the way to the base of Tobio’s dick. His knees wobble at the hot sensation, and the setter muffles his whimper on his shirt. ‘Yes, he is. I’ll…um, we’ll get home by ourselves.’

‘Alright. Have fun, Kags.’ There is a slight mockery in Miya’s tone that Tobio chooses to ignore in favor of grabbing his boyfriend’s orange locks and bucking into the constricting heat around his cock. Shoyo takes and takes, always so ready for everything he gives, and Tobio always has a lot to offer. He’s fine tuned his body to the music of Shoyo’s, knowing just which spot to hit, which angle to adjust to, which reaction to coax. Shoyo’s throat is impossibly tight as Tobio fucks into it, letting him gag and choke on it harshly, just the way he likes it. ‘Fuck, Shoyo, I’m so close….fuck, I’m coming, babe…’

Shoyo sucks on the head of his cock until Tobio is whimpering from oversensitivity. He runs his tongue across the slit and drinks it all up, surprising Tobio every time with how addicted he is to swallowing his come. ‘Can I get you off, babe?’

‘Not now, Tobio. Wanna go home and ride you, okay?’

‘Fuck. O-okay.’

They make their way back home in the subway, holding each other closely, and Tobio wants to jump his boyfriend every second of the way. But he waits. Waits till Shoyo strips himself naked and lets Tobio finger him until he’s loose enough to take him. Waits until Shoyo is fully seated on his cock, body pink from the sensation. Waits until Shoyo has finished coming from his dick alone, expertly swirling and gyrating his hips to pleasure himself. When Shoyo is fully spent from his orgasm, panting from exhaustion, Tobio jumps him, crowding him with his body and pinning him down to kiss him stupid. They bask in each other’s presence for a minute before Tobio spreads Shoyo’s legs and pushes in. It’s incredible as always, hot and mind-blowing as always, but also so, so overwhelming as their eyes hold their gazes. Every time Tobio makes love to his boyfriend, it feels like the first. Every time, he is reborn again, waiting to surrender and be consumed by the storm that is Hinata Shoyo.

‘I love you, Shoyo.’ Tobio kisses his boyfriends’s neck gently, lacing their calloused fingers together.

‘I love you too, Tobio.’

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to drop a kudos and let me know what you think in the comments below <3


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